Hetalia Story Time!
by Hetalia Story Time Group
Summary: A group of Authors joined together to create this. Each day a story will be posted. Varying Pairings, Characters. Warnings for Yaoi. Chapter specific warnings above each. Enjoy these lovely little drabbles! T to be safe. : Don't like one of the drabbles? Don't read.
1. I'm Coming Home

**Monday Story:** I'm Coming Home

**Brought to you by:** Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

**Pairing/Character:** EstLat

**_A/N: This is AU. Both live in America. :) _**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_~Jenna_**

* * *

He lay awake again, sighing softly. He stood up, going to sit on the window, staring out at the sky and up at the full moon. He couldn't sleep. He was too worried. His best friend and roommate, Eduard, had been drafted to Afghanistan. He hadn't texted in weeks, a rare thing for the usually so technologically efficient Estonian. He pulled his knees up to his chest, remembering the first time they'd met each other…

**14 years ago; October 1996; Ms. Braginskya's Orphanage, Moscow, Russia**

_"Raivis, please, can you put the book down and socialize? We just got a new boy from Estonia. Try to be friendly to him. He's going to be rooming with you." Yetkaterina begged softly, sighing. The boy frowned, setting down a worn copy of Oliver Twist and standing up._

_"Fine." He sighed, trudging downstairs, slowly. He collided with a boy in glasses carrying a suitcase up the stairs; the collision sent them both to the bottom of the stairs. The smaller boy looked on the verge of tears, scrambling up and off of him, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so so so sorry!" He exclaimed, lip trembling. The glasses wearing boy just grabbed his thick glasses and smiled at him kindly, placing them back on his face and gabbing the suitcase. He ruffled his hair gently, chuckling._

_"No need to be so sad about it. It was an accident. I'm Eduard Von Bock and I dare say you are Raivis Galante." He smiled, Raivis gasped in surprise._

_"H-How did you guess my name?"_

_A soft chuckle escaped, "Everyone kept telling me about you. You're going to be my roommate, I guess." He grinned, "Can you show me to the room." He nodded quickly, hurrying up the stairs, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment._

_"H-Here it is. T-That's your bed." He said quietly. He scooped up his discarded book and folding a page, replacing it on the small nightstand that doubled as a bookshelf. He sighed quietly, watching the boy set his suitcase down and begin to put things away, "I-I'm from Latvia." He said shyly. The older boy nodded._

_"I'm from Estonia." He smiled, glancing at the bookshelf and grinning, "You have the Harry Potter book?" He asked, going to sit beside him. Raivis nodded._

_"Alfred gave it too me, I like it a lot."_

_"Me too."_

_This was the beginning of a glorious friendship._

The next morning, he tiredly sat at the table, eating cereal and rereading the text he had received. But, when a knock came, he set his spoon down and went and opened the door. He expected his Russian neighbor to be there to pester him again, "Listen, I-Ivan…I told you b-" He was cut off by a swift, but gentle kiss. He pulled back, touching his lips in surprise.

"Ivan still giving you problems?" Eduard teased, looking down

"Ed!" Raivis smiled, running in to greet the older boy, practically tackling him, crying and kissing him again. "I was so worried…You hadn't texted for weeks and all of a sudden I get a text saying your coming home and I…I'm sorry for crying!" He sobbed, clinging to the boy's military uniform. From the salty tears falling onto his head told him that his best friend was crying as well. "Never leave me again, a-alright?"

"Alright, Rav…I love you…"

"I love you too.


	2. Russian Roulette

**Tuesday Story: **Russian Roulette

**Brought to you by: **Chibi (Malen'kaya Zla)

**Pairing/Character: **RusLiet

_**A/N: Character death, some blood, very angsty.**_

_**Read at your own risk~!**_

_**~Chibi**_

**xXx**

I was giving up. My persistence waning. The constant abandonment, the betrayal, they were starting to eat away at me. Soon there would be nothing left. 'I'll visit him once more,' I thought as a walked over to my dresser. Digging around clean clothing; I found it. I opened the barrel and emptied all but one, five bullets clinking on the hardwood below.

I trudged through the heavy snow. The crunching sound of the white flakes soothed my chaotic mind for a moment. Almost like a lullaby. Stepping up to his doorstep; I decided to play a little game to see if I should go through with this or not. I popped the barrel out, spun it and clicked it back into place. Calmly, I put it against my temple and pulled the trigger.

_Click_

"And so I enter." I stowed the gun back into my pocket. The door creaked as I entered. For a single moment, I heard the melody of keys before they fell silent. I could imagine the pale, slim fingers hovering, shaking, over the keys. It sent a stab through my heart to know all it took was for me to open the door.

Lightly, I padded up the stairs and stood before his study door. I felt my face fall as he stammered, "R-R-Russ-ia?" Again I decided to play.

_Click, spin, click_

and to my temple it goes.

_Click_

Empty again. Giving the door a faint knock, "May I come in?" I heard a whimper and took it as 'da'. His office was warm and I felt my face heating up for two reasons. I lifted my sullen eyes from the gray wood and looked him in the eyes, which were barely visible over the computer monitor.

"Lithuania?" I murmured. I only got a questioning squeak. I inhaled deeply, keeping my emotions steady, the tears at bay. "Do you want me gone?" My voice was flat without any inflection.

His head rose and his brows quirked. "Is that trick question?" Suspicion painfully obvious.

"Nyet." My voice was barely above a whisper. He sat in his chair properly and studied me.

"What are you talking about, Russia?" His voice had returned to normal.

"I will leave, permanently, if you want me to." I explained simply. I stepped closer and sat in the chair in front of his desk. He was racking his brain for what I meant, I could tell.

So I took out my revolver, click, spin, and pulled out the bullet. With his eyes bulging I clarified. "Bullet will enter here," I pointed with it to my temple, "And I will be gone." I placed it back into the revolver. Spin, Click. And placed it in my lap, obediently waiting for his decision.

"What about your land?" He balked.

"You can have it." There was a sliver of pain in my tone.

"Wh-what about your relations?" It seemed to me he was struggling to keep from taking the gun and shooting me himself.

"Change them. I will not care in Hell."

"Do you care now? On Earth?" He raged, his fist slamming onto the desk.

"Nyet." I spoke with a dead voice, saw with dead eyes.

He groaned, frustrated, and rose out of his chair. He stomped around the desk and crouched down so that he was face to face with me. Grabbing a hold of my large shoulders he shook me lightly. "And why not?" He demanded.

"What reason is there to care?" The shaking had left me as dead as before.

He bit down on his lower lip and I could tell it was taking a great deal of restraint not to smack me. Go ahead. I do not care. "There are many reasons to care about your life, Russia."

"I don't think that. I am alone. I am unwanted and bothersome." I was trying to clarify this for him, but he wasn't understanding. "If I am gone, everything is better, for Sister Ukraine, Sister Belarus, you and the other two Baltics, and all of world."

He shook his head viciously, "No, we love you. We want you to stay, okay?"

I smiled knowingly as he got up and placed his face into his palm. Quietly, I readjusted the barrel with a soft click and placed it to my temple.

I smiled with all I had and spoke with one tear running down my cheek; "Ya lyublyu tebya." (I love you.)

**Lithuania**

I heard a shot and turned, only to wish I hadn't. Russia was slumped down and blood was splattered across my wall.

"NO!" I rushed to him and picked him up. "Russia? Ivan, answer me!" The pleading in my voice was obvious even to me. His head lolled back in the crook of my arm, his eyes staring at me with all the pain he had been holding back.

My mouth was gaping, that I knew. "I-I-Ivan?" My strength broke and I leaned down, our foreheads touching.

"Ivan," I murmured roughly, "If you can hear me; I love you..." A tear fell from my eyes and onto his already streaked skin. "Please," the word was rough and desperate on my tongue, "Please come back. I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

I leaned a little closer, and kissed him delicately, like he would break if I wasn't careful. 'But he's already broken...' I sobbed, rocking him back and forth in my arms.

**Russia**

I heard his cry, but it was too late. I would be nothing soon enough. I felt his warm arms encircle me, 'Why is it so cold? Come closer, Lithuania...'

"Russia? Ivan, answer me!" I heard him say. And I wanted to answer him, badly. But my lips wouldn't move. Nothing would.

"If you-hear-; I love you..." His voice was fading in and out, or maybe I was the one fading. I struggled to stay conscious, wanting to hear his voice just a little longer. It was so rare I heard it without fear.

"Please-back. Sor-so sorry." Again, I was going in and out, but it was getting worse. Then I felt his lips on mine. And I swear, if I had control of my face, it would have had the brightest smile. I got a kiss. A real kiss. I was so happy. I was in my Lithuania's arms, he kissed me and now I could feel the slight sway of him rocking me. And he wasn't faking it. He meant it. He loved me. Just like all those years ago, we were friends... A small tear; just one little tear; rolled down the side of my head, mixing with blood from my Russian Roulette.

And then silence enveloped me.


	3. Return

**Wednesday Story:** Return

**Brought to you by:** Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

**Pairing/Character:** France X Lisa (Joan)

**A/N:** Hey it's Jenna, again! I'm also your Wednesday writer! Enjoy this piece of crap. It really sucks. DX Lisa is actually in the manga. She's in Volume 4. France believes her to be the reincarnation of Joan of Arc (Jeanne d'Arc). Sad ending. Kinda. Sorry my things are so short compared to everyone elses... *goes to cry in her corner*

* * *

The year after Lisa had met France, she returned to France, specifically Paris for her birthday. As she held her camera, taking in the sights she had missed on her first trip, she was also searching for the man who had been her guide last time. Finally she found him, sitting on a bench feeding pigeons. She shyly sat beside him. He ignored he, presumably waiting for her to speak.

"Bonjour?" Lisa greeted, a bit rough on her French. The man chuckled, smiling as he looked up. Surprise was evident on his face, though. "You didn't expect to see me again, I take it?" She giggled and he smiled sheepishly.

"Non, I thought I had frightened you away. I didn't mean to be so pushy." France apologized to her, smiling. She shook her head.

"I was more confused. You gave me a lot to think about." She said, standing up and offering him her hand, "Care to show me to more sights? Who better to see the country with than the country himself?"

France nodded, taking her hand and leading her closer to the Eiffel Tower with a smirk, "The is the Eiffel Tower, obviously, and one of my favorite parts of Paris." He said, thick accent making his words sound quite…sexy. Yes, that was defiantly the word to describe the accent. It was thicker than most French accents she heard where she was from, probably due to him being France, but, still…

Thus, they spent the next few days wandering Paris, eating, and enjoying the sights it had and the company. Finally, It came time for her to leave back home. France sighed, handing her the rose with a smile.

"It is just as beautiful as you, ange…" He whispered. He watched her look at the rose, before smiling.

"You're amazing France…I'll come visit you again soon. I'd love to stay, but my mother and family need me." She nodded, kissing his cheek, "I enjoyed seeing you again. Here. This is my phone number, call me anytime. A beintot." She smiled, handing his a piece of paper and running off to catch her plane. He watched her go sadly, sighing softly as he returned to his apartment. Later, he began to cook in the kitchen and turned on the TV to listen to the news.

Most of it was useless, weather reports and such. Suddenly he nearly dropped the plate. "Breaking news…The plane that had departed from Paris' Le Bourget Airport earlier today, has crashed. Four people were killed. Lisa Orion, Gina Fey, Miranda Smith, and Louis Mack. It has been concluded that the four burned to death, trapped under the wreckage on the crashed plane…"

France didn't feel the plate fall, he barely heard the crash as it shattered. He had once again lost her. Lost his Joan. He had raised her, trained her with a sword and taught her to memorize verses. He convinced her the visions were a sign of how special. He'd loved her and she had loved him. Finally the irony struck him of the situation.

Both times she had died it was by being burned. Both times he had given her a rose. He supposed, just those who were toyed with by history could be reborn…He supposed they never lasted. After all, What age had Lisa said she was? Oh yes, 19. The same age Joan was. Oh, the irony in this situation really, it was hilarious.

He had been invited to the funeral and of course he attended, laying a single red rose on top of the casket, a sad, but small smile on his lips.

"May you rest well and we shall meet again. I waited so long for you to come back, I will wait for as long as I must wait, again. A beintot, mon petit ange." He whispered to her.


	4. Planning To Fail

**Saturday Story: **Planning To Fail

**Brought to you by: **Zeie

**Pairing/Character: **Several characters. No pairings.

_**A/N: Fake zombies, discussion of zombie plans, and a frustrated England. Not really a story to be taken seriously.**_

_**...I had fun writing this.**_

_**~Zeie**_

_**xXx**_

"Hey England."

England looked up from his book, groaning when he saw America approaching him with a grin on his face. Oh dear, what did the idiot American want now?

America stopped in front of him, and England could literally _feel _the laughter that Al was holding back as he spoke. He knew he was going to be the victim of some kind of prank or joke. "I just realized something. And I figured you would want to know."

The Brit narrowed his eyes suspiciously, taking a sip from his cup of Earl Grey. "Okay... Just tell me, git."

"Nobody likes you."

"Wha- What are you talking about, everybody likes me!" England argued, though he knew it was far from the truth. He didn't really have many friends. Though he wasn't sure why, he would be friends with himself if he were them, he thought.

America shook his head, smirking. It was apparent that he was enjoying this. "Nah, everybody hates you. You don't fit in." Not that he had room to talk... None of the Allies liked America very much. Then again none of the Allies liked each other very much.

"Oh? I think I fit in just fine!" England snapped, setting his tea down on the table next to his chair and crossing his arms.

"Really?"

"Yes."

America rolled his eyes, as if he were arguing with a child over an indisputable fact. As if England were trying to convince him that the sky was orange. "Then answer this, England. What's your zombie plan?"

"M-My what?" England asked, confused. Zombies? Zombies weren't real! But of course America would bring something like this into the conversation. The American had been obsessed with the things for a while now. It must have been all those new zombie movies that he'd been making recently.

"There's two kinds of people in the world, England." America sighed, "Those who have a plan prepared for when the zombies take over the Earth," He pointed at himself, "and those who don't." He pointed at England. "We call those last people 'DINNER'."

"Nobody does that, bloody American git!" England snapped, standing up. "That's ridiculous! Zombies aren't real! They're a figment of your imagination, which has been corrupted by those idiotic films you watch!"

America ignored him, going on. "In my zombie plan, I'm going to Alaska. Zombies have no body heat, so they'll freeze like corpsicles! It's brilliant!" He laughed.

"No one else thinks about stuff like-"

England was interrupted as America turned around and called for France. "Yo France!" He shouted. The Frenchman opened the door, peeking inside. "Yes, Amerique?"

"What's your zombie plan, dude?"

England chuckled inwardly, waiting for the Frenchman to give the younger country a similar lecture._ Of course even Francis isn't dumb enough to have a-_

"I have two weeks worth of food in mon attic. I climb up and pull the ladder up with me~"

"WHAT?" England sputtered, glaring at France with shock and disgust. And there went the last scrap of respect he'd had for that bloody frog!

America tilted his head, "And what happens after the two weeks?" He asked calmly, as if it were an intelligent, everyday conversation. Meanwhile England was still trying to wrap his head around this. Was he dreaming, or were his fellow nations really this stupid?

France winked, smirking. "That's for me to know. I don't want to risk you two turning into zombies and knowing what I'm up to." He purred, "So are you still planning to go to Alaska when the time comes?"

"Oh come on!" England groaned.

Ignoring the unbeliever, America grinned, giving France a thumbs up. "You know it!"

Sighing, the Frenchman shook his head. "You'll never make it, Amerique. The major freeways will be choked with stalled cars, you won't even make it through all the traffic."

"I'm just gonna have to take that risk!" America sighed, then smiled confidently again. "Besides, I'm the hero! I can survive anything!"

France smiled fondly at the American. "Good luck to you, Amerique."

"Good luck to you too, dude!"

"Are you two bloody insane?" England shouted, though no one seemed to be paying attention to him anymore. It was then that Russia showed up out of nowhere, holding a pipe. England would have suspected that he'd just materialized out of nowhere, but he was standing near an open window, so it was possible that he had entered through there.

"Privet!" He greeted cheerfully, "What's with all the noise?"

Despite how creepy the situation was, (as it always was when the Russian was around) England turned to ask him a question. "Hey Russia, do you have a quote unquote, 'zombie plan'?"

Russia blinked innocently. "A zombie plan? Of course not."

England smirked, looking smugly at America. "See, I told you-"

"I have 37 different zombie plans~"

America's eyes widened, "Wow, Russia. Dude, you're totally prepared for the zombie apolocolypse!"

Russia smiled, tilting his head. "Don't be impressed, America. In 36 of those plans I use your fresh corpse as bait so that I can make my initial escape from the legions of the undead."

"Well at least I know there's one plan where-"

"And in the 37th plan, I knowingly infect myself with the zombie virus just so that I can devour you." Russia added, still smiling in that creepily innocent way of his. Obviously the prospect of plan #37 didn't bother him much. And that was disturbing.

England sighed, "Russia, you've got to be joking..."

"Why do you think I carry a pipe with me all the time?" Russia asked, "You've got to be ready to act on a moment's notice, da?"

England facepalmed, "You guys, I really don't think... Wait. What's that?"

He had been interrupted _again _by some ominous moaning sounds from outside. Everyone walked over to the window to see the zombiefied Axis walking towards the house.

Russia smiled, seeming to be happy about this turn of events. "It seems the Axis has been infected, da?"

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in the attic!" France said, quickly running off to hide.

America grinned, "Hahaha! Looks like the hero will have to jack a car and head to Alaska!" He then proceeded to jump out the window and start running ot the nearest car.

Russia blinked, "Wait, America! I need your delicious meat for most of my plans~" But the American was already gone. He turned to England. "Hm... England? Would you like to help me with something?"

"No thank you."

Meanwhile outside the house, the Axis were pretending to be zombies. They had used costume makeup to make their skin look sickly and zombified, tore their clothes, used fake blood, etc. Japan stopped making zombie noises to whisper to Germany. "Hey Germany, how long to we have to keep up this zombie act?"

"Wait until they all go into hiding, then plant the bomb inside the house and run..." Germany whispered back, then continued stumbling about like an undead, looking for brains to devour. Just like a cliche zombie movie.

"Brian... I want Brian..."

Japan wanted to facepalm. "Italy, it's 'brain' not 'Brian'."

"Oops! Sorry~ Must've read the script wrong!"

Germany sighed, "Gott verdammt, Italy..."


	5. Boyfriend

Monday Story: Boyfriend

Brought to you by: Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

Pairing/Character: SwissAus and One-sided SwissLiech

A/N: Why does everything I type look so much fucking longer in Word? *realizes she sucks at writing long shit, but is gonna try anyway. Why I should never begin thinking about what to write with 'Girlfriend' by Avril Lavigne on repeat. XD High School AU

Warning: Jealous Liechtenstein. Cussing. Discussion of bras and boob sizes.

"It's not fair, what does Roderich have that I don't?" Lili complained to her friends. Her, Meimei, Liz, Natalia, and Chelle were gathered in her room.

"…A penis?" Liz smirked, "Come on, Vash is gay and he's your step-brother isn't he? And they're cute together!"

"Hah. That's funny Liz. I think Lili has more of one that your ex does!" Chelle snickered. She ducked down, avoiding a pillow, "Anyway, when is their next date?" She asked.

Lili shrugged, "Whenever he feels like it, I guess." She sighed, "Why won't he notice how much I like him!"

"I feel the same way about my big brother." Natalia nodded. All the girls turned to look at the door as it was opened. Vash blinked, before shaking his head.

"Lili, I'm heading out with Roderich. We'll be going to a concert. "We'll be back about 10. Be in bed by 9:30. Mom and Dad aren't going to be home until tomorrow morning. Leftovers are in the fridge, and you know where I keep the guns." He said, and she smiled, jumping down from the bed and running over to hug him.

"Okay…" She said, hugging him tightly, "Be careful, big bruder." Vash nodded, smiling, patting her head and leaving, once Lili knew he was out of the house, she pouted. "See? He acts like I'm 5!"

"Well, maybe if you dressed like you are in high school and acted like it he wouldn't treat you like you're 5." Liz pointed out, getting a grin on her face. "Time for a make over." She said, grinning. "Which means shopping!" She made a face. All them did. They hated shopping, but they could bear it so that Lili could get her man. All the girls gathered their stuff and grinned, leaving the house heading for the mall.

"Nothing too short! I don't want him to think I'm a slut!" Lili exclaimed once they arrived.

"First stop, Victoria's Secret to get you some push-up bras." Meimei grinned, pulling her through the door of the mall and practically running into the store. "What size are you?"

"…32A." Lili muttered. The girls snickered and she covered her chest, self-consciously, "S-Shut up…"

"You're boobs are so small!" Mei exclaimed, giggling.

"Shut up!" She snapped, huffing and going to look for bras in her size. Once she found a few, she returned to the counter, paying for them. They left, pulling her away from the mall and to their houses. She got plenty of hand-me-downs, and returned home. After the shopping trip she returned back home. Soon, though it was the next day, getting ready for school took her longer than usual, due to putting on a little make up, as she usually went without anyway.

"Morning, big bruder!" Lili giggled as she came down the stairs. She was pretty sure he nearly dropped his bowl of cereal, looking at her in shock.

"L-Lili?" He asked, shocked. Instead of her usual dress she had on a pair of skinny jeans, a tank top and a cropped top. Her usually braided long hair was tied up in ponytail. Obviously, this was surprising, "Uhm…where is your dress?"

"Oh! Liz game me some new clothes!" She giggled, twirling. He blinked, frowning.

He crossed his arms. "You are not wearing that."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so. Change. Now."

"No." Lili said firmly, grabbing her backpack, and an apple, she hurried out the door before her brother could say anymore. _Why didn't big bruder like my new outfit?_ She thought he might like her wearing something different. "Maybe he'll never like me like him!" She sighed, "Oh well. Why bother? Big bruder is happy, and that's what matters. His happiness in my happiness!" She smiled, beginning to skip. She decided she'd wear her usual clothes tomorrow. She liked those better. The school day passed and once home, she changed into her usual dress, smiling. She went o look for Vash. She wanted to apologize for earlier. "Vash?" She called.

"In the gun room." He replied, she knocked on the door, walking in. "I-I'm sorry…I overreacted, earlier…It's just…you're my little sister and… I don't want you to grow up too fast…" He admitted when he saw her.

She smiled, hugging him tightly, "Nein, it's my fault. I'm not ready to grow up, just yet. I was just trying to get this boy's attention. He won't notice me, though. He thinks I'm too childish."

Vash frowned, scooting over to give her room; he hugged her close, smiling slightly. "You're not childish, and if he doesn't see how perfect you are right now he doesn't deserve your love, alright?" He ask, smiling.

Lili sighed, pulling from his arms. "You. It's you…I like you! But you're gay and dating Roderich, and you are my stepbrother! There. I said it, I don't like your boyfriend and I want you to date me." She said, standing up and walking out quickly. She couldn't believe it! She just confessed her feelings for him. She headed out the door of the house, needing to think. Why had she said that out loud?

Meanwhile, in his room, Vash was at a loss. Surely she was joking…There was no way Lili could be serious about her crush on him. Anyway, he had to find her. Who knew where she could be. He got up, following her out the door looking around, he knew where she would go. He began to run, catching up to her and hugging her, "Don't cry…I love you, Lili, but only as a sister. You should look into liking other boys, besides me, ja?

"…Ja…" She muttered, hugging him close gently. "I guess…" She said softly.

_Well, at least he doesn't hate me._

The End?


	6. Who Am I? Part One

**Wednesday Story:** Who am I? Part One

**Brought to you by:** Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

**Pairing/Character:** Itacest

**A/N:** This story is…important to me, because I struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts quite frequently.

**Trigger Warning: Cussing, mentions of cutting, attempted suicide, Incest**

* * *

Romano. Hated half the time and mistaken for Italy the other half. He wasn't allowed at meetings, even though his opinion, because yes, he did have one, was usually better than his brother's. He was used to this by now, but it still hurt his feelings to be forgotten so much. Spain remembered him, but, even someday, he barely noticed him, too busy with his own idiocy.

He tugged the sleeves of his jacket, trying to hide his arms even more. Why did he even bother trying anymore? Italy only wanted to flirt with Germany and Spain was always too busy. No one really cared anymore. Not like they ever did.

What could he do? He wasn't exactly useful, at least, in his mind. He didn't serve any point nymore. He was aware the only reason he still existed was due to old prejudices between North and South Italians. It really hurt him. More than he showed, though. He just cussed it off and went on. A hand grabbed his wrist and he bit his lip to keep back the pain, "Dammit, Feli!" He squeaked, tugging his wrist. "Did Germany ditch you?"

"Okay, fine he did. I was going to ask if you'd seen him." Italy pouted, letting go of the wrist, and grinning.

"I haven't."

He frowned, "What's wrong, Lovi?"

"I'm fine, Feliciano." He lied.

"All right, then. See you, Lovi~!" He called, heading off. He sighed, holding a pillow close to him and sighing as he sat on the couch. He heard the door close and sighed. Alone again. He'd only asked if he was okay because it's what Feliciano did. You'd think a brother would notice when someone was in love with him.

Yes, he was totally inrevocably in love with Italy. Hell, they were brothers and incest was wrong, they'd been raised as such. And being in love with a male was bad. He sighed, heading to the kitchen. Why bother trying to gain his brothers attention anymore? All he cared about was that damn German. Why wouldn't he notice his love? It was obvious Germany didn't love him, so why bother chasing after something you'd never get. Heh, he was being hypocritical, he realized.

He'd never have a chance with his brother. It was stupid to even think so. With him gone, though…Italy and everyone would be so much better off. They'd be happier without his ugly, annoying, selfish, stupid self in their perfect world. Before he knew what was happening, his fingers were on the gun he kept in the house for emergency. He closed his eyes, a few tears leaking out. No one would cry once he was gone. Feli, Antonio, the Potato bastard, everyone would laugh and be happy. He cocked the gun, pointing it at his temple, opening his eyes and smiling.

He began to squeeze the trigger, when suddenly the gun was knocked from his hands and someone was hugging him tightly, "Lovi! W-Why would you do that, fratello? W-Why would you try to kill yourself?" His sobbing brother demanded.

He broke down right there, confessing everything. His brother held him close, moving to sit on the couch with him. "Is that all?" He asked once he was done.

"And I kinda… Ti amo…" Romano muttered. His brother was speechless, before breaking into a frown.

"Really? That's…Oh…" Italy wasn't sure how to respond. The older brother moved away from him, wiping his tears.

Lovino gave his brother a sad look. "I…I know you probably hate me. I don't blame you. I'm a freak. I go against everything we were taught. I…" He trailed off, standing up. There was a crash of thunder and he sighed. "Just…forget it." He muttered, walking out the door, into the rain. As he walked, he thought.

"Why would Italy bother saving me?" He wondered out loud as he kept walking.

Back at the house, Italy was calling everyone and panicking, but thankful everyone was staying in Italy, due to a world conference being held. He was trying to get everyone out searching for his brother. Once done, he grabbed his jacket and keys, hurrying to his car and beginning to drive. Where could he possibly be?

Romano walked into a coffee shop, ordering a coffee and sitting at a far table sighing. He contemplated running away. About the only thing he was good at. Running away. He was quite good at it. Someone walked into the coffee shop, "Hello. Have you seen this boy?" A distinctly French accent asked the lady at the counter who giggled.

"Your brother was worried, Lovino." France said, looking down disapprovingly. "Very, very worried."

_**TBC…**_


	7. Alfred's Shotgun

**Saturday Story: **Alfred's Shotgun

**Brought to you by: **Zeie

**Pairing/Character: **No pairings! Several characters!

_**A/N: **_I wasn't originally going to update today... but I managed to put something together yesterday. Be happy.

_**~Zeie**_

_xXx_

"So what do you guys want do?" England asked.

France was the first to pipe up, "I would like to go bowling!"

The Brit sighed, shaking his head. "You don't even know how to bowl..."

"Well maybe I want to learn, Arthur!"

America watched them, grinning. Then he looked down at the shotgun in his hands. A shotgun! Shotguns were so fun. And he wanted to share the fun with the others! He walked over to the group, smiling like an idiot. "Hey! Check it out, I got a shotgun!"

"Ve! Wow!" Italy gasped, grinning.

"Wha? Now where did an idiotic git like you get a shotgun?" England huffed, crossing his arms.

"Somewhere..." America sighed, looking fondly down at the gun for a moment. Then he pointed it at England. "Now dance for me!"

Then the gun, uh... kind of, accidentally went off.

BOOM

England lay in a crimson pool of blood on the ground, motionless.

"Hey Alfred!"

America turned around, looking at Prussia and Italy curiously.

Prussia grinned, carefully placing a red apple on top of the Italian's head. "America! Shoot this apple off of Italy's head!"

"Okay."

Italy smiled, "Ve! Shoot the apple off my head, America! You can do it, I know you ca-!"

BOOM

The cute Italian fell to the ground like a ragdoll, the apple rolling off of his head, toward Prussia's feet.

"Oh damn, I missed." America said, blinking. "Lemme try again." He looked to Prussia, who was bending down to pick up the apple. "Hey! Get away from that apple!"

Prussia looked up at him, then straightened up and stepped away.

"Hey!" America shouted again, frowning. "C'mon, move!"

The albino stepped further away.

"Further!"

...

"A little bit more."

At this point Prussia was several feet away from the apple. Surely he was a safe enough distance-

BOOM

Prussia fell to the ground.

America looked at his gun with a frown. "This gun has accuracy problems!"

Then there was a voice behind the American."Hey Alfred!"

"Ah!" America turned around, immediately shooting at what he thought was a ghost behind him. Next thing he knew, Canada was dead on the ground with a bullet hold between his eyes.

America stared awkwardly at the body for a moment, then muttered. "...You scared me..."

Then he looked up at France, "So, did I hear something about bowling?"


	8. Je t'amie

**Monday Story:** Je t'amie, Papa

**Brought to you by:** Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

**Pairing/Character:** Seychelles/Iceland if you squint. Mostly just about Papa!France and his Matthew and Chelle, and a storm.

**A/N:** Warning, may cause you to get cavities. Human AU. Matthew is about 7 in this and Chelle is about 5.

* * *

"Papa~! Papa~!" The two young children giggled as they ran out of the school and into the waiting arms of their father, who chuckled, hugging them tightly, kissing each of their heads.

"Bonjour, my little ones. How was school today?" Francis asked with a smile, taking each of their hands and beginning to walk towards his restaurant. Matthew sighed, frowning.

"Miss Kat kept calling me Alfred." He said softly, frowning. Francis sighed, frowning, kneeling down to hug him gently.

"Do not be sad, my little one, she cannot see the perfection that is you, Matthew. Do not worry too much. Just kindly correct her." He said, before turning to his younger daughter, "And you, Chelle?" He asked her. She giggled.

"Emil gave me a flower today~!" She sung happily, holding up a wilting, slightly mangled dandelion.

He chuckled, "That's beautiful." He smiled, leading them inside. "Now go sit down and work on what homework you have, alright?" He said, and the two nodded, hurrying to their special table set in the corner. Francis went back into the kitchen, beginning to cook. Once closing rolled around, he hung up his apron, returning to where the two were engaged in a game of tic-tac toe. He ruffled their hair, "Okay you two, time to head back to the house." He smiled.

"Okay!" Chelle giggled, smiling as she was picked up. Francis took Matthew's hand leading him out to the car. He helped them get in and buckle up, driving back to his house as it began to lightly rain. Once home, he got everyone out of the car and into the house, checking the homework quickly, he kissed their foreheads, sending them up to get ready for bed.

The rain had begun to get heavier and he sighed, closing all windows and going up to tuck in the two of them. He yawned, once he finished tucking the two in, he changed, and laid down, falling asleep.

The storm slowly worsened, wind and lightning and thunder all around. Matthew and Chelle whimpered, running into their dad's room, "Papa! Papa!" The called, crawling into bed with him, he yawned, blinking at them as hw woke up.

"It's just a storm, mon lapins… The angels are merely playing a simple game of bowling. No need to be frightened." Francis said softly, holding the close. "Okay? So, do not be frightened, anymore."

"B-But it's loud…" Matthew said quietly, curling closer.

"I know…but if you fall asleep, it will go away." He replied.

"Will you sing to us?"

"Sure…" He cleared his throat, beginning to sing, "_Little child, be not afraid_  
_Though rain pounds harshly against the glass_  
_Like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger_  
_I am here tonight_

_Little child, be not afraid_  
_Though thunder explodes and lightning flash_  
_Illuminates your tear-stained face_  
_I am here tonight._

_And someday you'll know_  
_That nature is so_  
_The same rain that draws you near me_  
_Falls on rivers and land_  
_On forests and sand_  
_Makes the beautiful world that you'll see in the morning…_" He sung, smiling at the alost sleeping children. "Je t'amie, lapins…"

"Je t'amie, papa…" They said, tiredly, drifting to sleep.

**A/N:** I am sorry it sucks... T.T


	9. This Tale

**Wednesday Story:** This Tale

**Brought to you by:** Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

**Pairing/Character:** Implied Fr(Fem!)Uk, but that's about it. A little PruCan if you squint

**A/N: **Readers, please, I'd LOVE constructive criticism. Hell, even flames are fine! Also, we are looking for other writers to join us on this account, if interested PM my main account!

* * *

Also this story is based off of 'The Little Girl Who Was Forgotten' on Youtube. Go look it up!

This story is one that has been told time and time again. It is a simple story, one without princesses or princes in it. It involves no knights and no dragons. No castles. However, it does contain a little tiny bit of magic. And…Oh wait? You haven't heard the tale of little Matthew? Well! I dare say you must not be from this planet. Everyone knows the tale of Matthew. But, since you seem not to know, I can tell you.

Many, many years ago, far before my time, or yours, in a small, quaint town that no longer exists lived a small boy of 6 named Matthew. He was the youngest child of a French chef and a British singer. He had a slightly older twin brother, Alfred, was also 6. He was a spoiled boy and forced their mother to give him all the attention, leaving no time for poor little Matthew.

In the large house, much larger than four people should need, there were many servants, who mistook him for Alfred and scolded the child for stealing food, when he hadn't even toughed it. And that was really the only time he was acknowledged by anyone it seemed. Everyone forgot him. Sure, he had toys, but what good were they with no one to play with. Alfred refused to come near him, and was rarely around the house anyway. He had friends.

Matthew had no friends. He once had met a boy name Gilbert, but…he had left long ago. He was never told bedtime stories, like his brother got. He never had his closest checked for monsters, like other children. His toys, though he had many, never could give him what he wanted…love and affection. He could hug his little teddy bear all he wanted…but it never hugged him back.

He did everything he was told. He was quiet, polite, and well mannered. He got good grades on his progress reports and cleaned up his messes. He went to bed on time and brushed his teeth for three minutes three times a day. He did everything he could. And still no one cared about it. They praised Alfred for everything…and poor little Matthew was always forgotten about.

Then, he tried to not be so good. He left his toys out and tried to talk loudly. He broke things and tripped his brother. He refused to eat his vegetables, anymore. Nothing happened except getting Alfred into trouble, which he felt bad for, so he returned to being well behaved.

Nothing could be done.

Until, one night, with his teddy bear held close to his chest, he sat beside the window and looked up at the stars high above. A star, the most beautiful and brightest star flashed and dazzled. It was so pretty and bright, it reminded him of an angel. Maybe, if he wished hard enough, the angel would grant his wish. So he closed his eyes tightly, crinkled his nose and whispered in his already soft voice, "I wish for a friend who won't forget me! A friend can love me and help me when I need it. Who will be my keep me safe and never leave me alone, ever."

Keep in mind; wishes are rarely given out by star fairies, who are commonly mistaken for angels. But never had anyone ever wished for such a kind and important, dear thing. Few children wished with so much hope, that the wish was granted.

"Please…Please…Give me a friend…" He begged and pleaded, eyes still closed and hands clasped tightly.

And, as the large clock struck the midnight hour and gave a great toll, a wave of light washed over little Matthew, and lit up the room with it beautiful glow. When the light faded, Matthew opened his eyes. His wish had come true.

Beside him hovered what could only be described as a ball of fluff with eyes and wings and a pair of horns. Matthew tilted his head and smiled, hugging it. It hugged him back. A Friend. He had a friend.

His new friend didn't speak much, but Matthew didn't mind. He named him Mr. Kuma. He always was by Matthew and did whatever he wanted. They colored together, read together, snuggled together. Every night, his furry companion checked the closest and under the bed for monsters. They built forts and went on picnics together. Mr. Kuma would push Matthew on the swing.

And together they were inseparable.

For a time, but, soon Matthew noticed something was wrong. He was certainly the best friend he had ever had. But…he had never had many friends. He realized, that he only was his best friend…because he had wanted him to be like this. Mr. Kuma did everything he wanted him to… But no more. He couldn't love her on his own…

This made Matthew very sad.

Until, one night, he heard celebrating from downstairs. He had been coloring inside a pillow fort with Mr. Kuma when one of the maids, who very rarely spoke to him at all, came running it.

"Oh isn't it wonderful?" Ms. Elizabeta smiled. "Have you heard yet? You're going to be a big brother! Your mother is pregnant!" She clapped her hand with glee. "Won't it be nice?" She smiled, before running back out.

But, Matthew certainly did not find it nice. Not at all.

He looked at his friend who was stoic for a moment, before giving a frown. This was most certainly not wonderful! This was the final straw for the usually quiet, mild mannered young boy. The finally straw indeed! He clenched his fists, his face going red with anger and sadness. Tears formed by his eyes and he took a deep breath.

Then he screamed.

How dare they replace him!

He screamed and screamed and screamed some more. And as he screamed, Mr. Kuma absorbed all his rage. And he got bigger…and bigger…and bigger! Until he burst through the house. And the more Matthew screamed, the bigger and angrier he got. And then, he carried out the revenge his young owner had wanted so much. Revenge on the kids at school for ignoring him! Revenge of the postman for never giving him the letters addressed to him. Revenge on the teachers who called him Alfred! Revenge on everyone. On her parents and Alfred for ignoring her and never caring. Mr. Kuma went on, destroying everything…and everyone in the town.

Soon, Matthew slowly stopped screaming, going into a few hiccupping sobs. Exhausted, like any 6-year-old would be after that, and heartbroken, she sat down and cried.

He cried for his parents. Oh why hadn't they loved him? Why had they wanted to replace him with another little boy? Alfred got enough attention already. Why hadn't they wanted him, who would have done anything for a hug?

A simple kiss on the forehead…

A bedtime song…

Even a good scolding…

And now, everyone was gone. Who would love him now?

As he gazed up at the sky and saw the bright star he had wished on, he clasped his hands, closed his eyes, and began to whisper. Suddenly, a bright pathway of light appeared and Mr. Kuma was gone. But a boy, of no more than 7 stood in the light, holding out a hand for Matthew to take. He had a small bird on his head and was grinning

The boy took the hand and he and the boy walked away, the light, the boy with his little bird and Matthew slowly fading away.

They say, if you do find the town, and close your eyes, at the stroke of midnight, if you are very quiet…you can hear a soft voice whisper…

"Please…Please… Give me a friend…"


	10. Draw With Me

**Saturday Story: **Draw With Me

**Brought to you by: **Zeie

**Pairing/Character: **PrussiaxUkraine

_**A/N: **_I wonder how many of you have noticed that I've been stealing ideas from YouTube videos... Anyways, for this one you might have to pay a bit more attention to really understand the ending. It's not crack-induced comedy like the last two I wrote, so be prepared for some serious shit.

_**~Zeie**_

_xXx_

The glass.

It had been there for as long as Gilbert could remember. It was several times Gilbert's height, and it seemed to go on forever, neverending. He didn't know why it was there, or how it had gotten there, but he'd stopped wondering a long time ago.

But one day...

He stood in front of the glass, putting his hand on its cool surface. He turned his head to one side, then to the other.

"A girl...?"

A young woman stood several feet away, staring back at him. She looked as if she had been doing the same thing, putting one hand against the glass. Her silvery hair seemed so close to his own in color, but her eyes were different. A beautiful pair of blue eyes stared right back into his own crimson gaze. He ran over to her, smiling. "Hey, girl!"

She frowned slightly, putting a hand to her ear. Could she even hear him through the glass?

"I said hey!" Gilbert said, a bit louder.

The girl shook her head. No, she couldn't hear him.

The albino sighed, remaining silent for a moment. Then his eyes brightened again as he got an idea. "One sec!" He reached into his pocket, pulling out two pieces of chalk. He grinned and tossed one over the glass, which the girl caught in her hands.

He started to write, then crossed it out. Oh yeah, he had to write backwards so that she could read it from the other side.

'Can you write?'

The girl smiled and nodded, writing back. 'Of course I can!'

'Awesome! How about drawing?' Gilbert drew a little doodle of his pet, Gilbird. And it was awesomely cute, of course.

She nodded again, drawing a chibi version of herself. 'Yep!'

Then Gilbert noticed something. 'Hey... You're left-handed!'

'Yup. And you're right-handed?'

Gilbert nodded, 'Ja! Kesesese... That's so weird.'

The girl smiled and started to draw another little doodle. Gilbert started to draw along with her. Sometimes they'd finish each other's drawings, and sometimes they'd stop to just write to each other. After who knows how long, _several _hours, no doubt, the whole area of glass near where they were sitting was full of drawings. The girl, whose name he had learned was Katyusha, looked up at him and smiled. He frowned slightly, as if troubled by something, and put his hand against the glass.

Blushing, Katyusha put her hand against the glass as well. It was less than an inch away from his, but Gilbert couldn't stand the fact that they'd never be able to touch. He sighed, starting to write again.

'I want to be with you.'

She only smiled again, writing back.

'But you are with me!

...Only this glass is between us.'

Gilbert winced. But he wanted to hear her voice! He wanted to be able to touch her! He stood up, glaring at the glass. No, it wasn't a glass. It was a wall. A wall keeping him from this girl, and he wouldn't let it win!

He punched the wall once with his right hand, then again. And again. Katuyusha stood up, her eyes wide with worry. She shook her head vigorously, and even tough Gilbert couldn't hear her, he could tell that she was trying to shout at him to stop. He frowned, motioning for her to move out of the way. She reluctantly complied, stepping away from the cracks that were begininng to form.

A few more punches, and finally his fist broke through. He smirked triumphantly, for just a brief second, until panic stole his smile away again. The bits of glass that had broken away were starting to move back to their original places... And it didn't seem to matter that his hand was still there.

The next day, they met back by the glass again. Gilbert seemed to be doing okay, despite what had happened.

'Are you okay?'

Gilbert nodded once.

Katyusha smiled, then wrote again. 'Wanna draw?'

Gilbert picked up the chalk with his left hand and wrote, his handwriting strained and awkward. 'I can't anymore...'


	11. Before His Eyes

**Monday Story:** Before His Eyes

**Brought to you by:** Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

**Pairing/Character:** No pairings; Mainly just Latvia

**A/N:** _Sensitive Subjects – Holocaust, Death, Blood…_ So, I recently learned a bit more about Latvia. There was a large massacre, called the Railroad Park massacre, during World War Two there, this story is about Latvia's experience and the Daugavpils ghetto. The number of deaths was unknown but only 1, 150 were reported killed, though witnesses who survived said it was more. I got an awful/good idea for a Hetalia . This is the product.

* * *

**Daugavpils, Latvia**

Early.

All Latvia knew was that it was early morning and someone was dragging him out of bed by the hair. He let out a cry of pain, squirming as he was dropped on the floor. He blinked sleepy eyes at the man in front of him, who was shouting at him in German. He managed to catch a few words, that Prussia had taught him, but the message was clear. Get ready to leave.

For what?

He desperately wanted to ask, but his mouth refused to cooperate, meaning he just nodded mutely and hurriedly dressed. He was confused, scared, and desperately wanted his 'brothers'. Even Russia would be better.

His homeland, it was slowly being destroyed, and Germany and man he once feared and respected was behind it all. Obviously, he had taken to long, because the man, soldier, he realized, grabbed him by the hair and drug him out of the house. He whispered, crying out softly for Estonia. The man shouted for him to shut up, so he did fearfully. What would become of him?

He sniffled softly as he was led over to a place. Dzelzceļniecki dārzs, or Railwayman's Garden. It was one of his favorite places to visit. Why were they dragging him here. He saw people digging. Why were they digging, what were they doing?

Then he saw him. Germany. He stared at the much taller nation as he was dropped before him, and looked up, eyes tearfilled, silently pleading. He knew where this was going now. He whimpered when the blonde pulled him up, turning him to watch the people digging trenches. His people. Working as slaves.

They probably didn't even know they were digging their own grave.

He saw a young mother with a child, probably 3 or 4. His heart ached and he began to cry, someone slapped him, telling him to stop acting so foolish. Was he being foolish? Perhaps. He sniffled, wiping his ears. He had to be strong for his people. He caught the child's eyes and gave a sad smile.

Soon, it was done. The men stopped digging, and were sent in line. Germany gripped his head, forcing him to stare at the people. He prayed softly, which earned him a punch. He cried out in pain. He watched as his people were marched forward, some were praying, or singing softly. Songs of hope, and peace. Soon, the gunshots began. He was forced to watch as his own people willingly shot innocent civilians. Their kin, their family, their countrymen.

Soon, the trenches were filled. The smell of blood and death hug in the air, and those who weren't dead yet were forced back to work digging more mass graves. Tears fell down the young boy's cheeks, and landed on the ground beneath him.

The day passed as when the sun rose, three men loaded rifles, while another was shoved into his hands. His eyes widened, almost comically and he shook his head. Now, he drew the line. He pretended he was talking to the mirror.

"N-No. I refuse to kill my people. If you want me to kill them, you are stupid. I refuse." He said, his voice firm, and growing louder.

He paused, before closing his eyes, dropping the gun. Germany approached him, slapping him hard on the cheek. Other officers joined in on the beatings. He could handle this. Think of something else. He old himself. He kept crying out in pain, and watching through blurry eyes as another man picked up his dropped rifle. The shootings began again.

Every bullet was a needle. Slowly, the beating was growing too painful to take. His eyes closed and he blacked out. He didn't know what happened after than. The doctor said he was passed out for days. Dehydration that would kill a human, internal bleeding. Cuts and bruises. He would be dead if he wasn't a nation he had been told.

Weeks later, he found himself being locked up with a frown. He was herded inside the ghetto with so many other of his people. He tried to sooth and calm them. He was one of the few men in there, most had already been killed. He tried to keep the children from crying, but what could he tell them. Even he didn't know how this was going to end up. They were locked up and watched day and night. The only reason most were still alive is until they decided to kill them.

Not all he men were bad though. Some were even kind. They kept him updated on the state of things outside. Some got to know the people personally, and he, by the end of the first week, knew most of the names himself. It seemed silly and trivial, but he taught the children games and tried to keep them happy.

Sometimes, the guards would lie, saying the Jews about to be killed were needed. He never got a chance to thank these men, for protecting his people, at least partly. They received little food, and usually, what food he got, he gave most away to the elders. He was slowly becoming thinner and frailer.

Soon, public hangings began happening. He was forced by the gaurds to watch the deaths, and he could feel himself slipping away.

Months passed, he no longer kept track anymore. It had cooled down, then warmed up, so he suppoed it was about a year since he'd been in there. Many large mass killings occurred, and soon, few were still alive. The few that were, including him, were transferred to another camp.

Many more months of death passed. These faded into years…

Before his eyes, he had watched so many die. Innocent people who did nothing but believe. Years later, he would return and pay his respects, but that is a story for another time.

* * *

A/N: I am so sorry Raivis… T.T


	12. First Meeting

**Monday Story:** First Meeting

**Brought to you by:** Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

**Pairing/Character:** Chibi! Iceland and Norway fluff

**A/N:** Okay, this is going to be very short. XD Why? I told myself I would only use 300 words exactly on this drabble, not counting this part, so there you go. XD

* * *

It was cold when Norway stepped onto the shores of this lonely island. It was deserted, and he tilte his head, at least…he thought it was deserted. He heard a quiet giggle from somewhere and closed his eyes. That aura…A baby nation. He ran towards the giggle and paused when he saw a small boy sitting beside a rock, talking to another young girl. This one. She was neither human nor nation. She spotted him and vanished, the boy looked hurt.

"You scared away the elf." He stated, before frowning, "Why are you here? Who are you?" He asked, hiding behind the rock. Norway felt the corner of his lips twitch upwards. "I'm Norway." He nodded, offering a hand out to him.

The boy shook his head, turning and running into the trees. The boy groaned, running after. "Wait!" He called, "In the name of Odin stop running I am not going to hurt you!" He called, giving chase. The boy stopped, leaning on a tree.

"Go away. Leave my island alone." He said. "The monks…they knew you were coming. You scared them away…" He said, hiding behind a tree.

"I told you. I'm not going to hurt you. You can be my little brother." He offered. The boy contemplated this.

"I never had a brother before." He said quietly. He stepped out from behind the tree, shyly taking he out stretched hand and smiling shyly.

Norway tilted his head, "Do you have a name?"

The boy shook his head, "Should I?"

"Well, everyone has a name…Hmm… You'll be called Iceland, alright?"

"Okay, big brother." He smiled.

Iceland let Norway lead him back to where a fire had been started. He placed the small nation on his lap carefully and smiled, rocking him, until he fell asleep.

"My little brother."


	13. Whodunit? Part One

**Saturday Story: **Whodunit? Part 1

**Brought to you by: **Zeie

**Pairing/Character: **Slight FrUK, but other than that... None, really.

_**A/N: **_Not off a YouTube video! ...For once. There will be at least 2 more parts to this, most likely :/

_**~Zeie**_

_xXx_

"Is everyone here?" Arthur huffed, frowning as he took a sip of his tea. He didn't like that everyone else seemed to be wasting his time. He wanted to hurry this along as soon as possible. The sooner they found the chest, the sooner he could get out of here and away from these gits.

Francis looked around, thinking. "Let's see... there's you, me, Elizaveta, Ludwig, Gilbert..."

"Veh! I'm here!"

"And there's the last one."

The last guest entered the room, shutting the door behind him. And they all knew that as soon as the door was closed, the man outside locked it. The only way out now was to find the key, which was hidden somewhere in the mansion, inside a chest full of treasure...

"And you are?" Ludwig asked, arching a brow.

"Feliciano Vargas!"

Elizaveta smiled, walking over to the boy and hugging him. "Aw, you're so cute! And why are you here? Like, what do you plan to use the money for?"

"Ve~ we need the money to buy medicine... you see, the baby is sick..."

The Hungarian gasped, hugging him again. "Oh that's awful! Here, I'll share with you if I find it!" Then she grinned, suddenly getting an idea. She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Hehe! We should work together and split the gold! What do you say?"

"Si!"

"Kesesese!" Gilbert laughed, lifting his fifth bottle of beer in the last half hour to his lips. "I'm going to go look for this chest now. Its vital regions will soon belong to the awesome Gilbert!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Of course it will..." He muttered sarcastically.

Francis smiled and waved as the Prussian started to walk upstairs. "Have fun, mon ami! And good luck~"

The Brit glanced at Francis for a moment, then quickly looked away. His cheeks were perhaps the slightest hint of pink... And the only one who noticed was Feliciano. The Italian managed to tear himself away from Elizaveta to approach him.

"Ve~ What's your name?"

Arthur looked up at the boy, smiling slightly. "Ah, hello." He offered out his hand. "I'm Arthur Kirkland. Pleasure to meet you."

Feliciano smiled, shaking his hand. "It's so exciting to be here, isn't it?"

"I suppose..." Arthur sighed, finding his eyes drifting off to the Frenchman again, who was looking through one of the bookshelves. He was so handsome... His hair looked so silky... Arthur wanted to touch it so badly, among other things... Wait. No! Bad Arthur! He felt his face heat up again. N-No, he couldn't. Besides, Francis was probably taken anyway. There's was no way that he was single.

"...Are you listening, Mr. Kirkland?" Feliciano asked, trying to keep himself from giggling. He could _definately _tell what was going on here by the way Arthur kept looking at Francis.

Arthur jumped, having completely forgotten that the Italian was even there. Let alone that he was still talking. "Oh! Uh, sorry! I really am, Feliciano. I'm just distracted today..." He muttered.

Feliciano glanced back at Francis, who seemed to be oblivious to the poor Englishman's feelings. "Hm... you want me to help you out with Francis over there?"

Arthur's face was bright red at this point. "Wha- no! What could you possibly be talking about?"

"Don't worry. I'll talk to him for you!" Feliciano giggled, turning and walking over to Francis.

Arthur sank down into his seat as he watched Feliciano talk to Francis, then turn and point back at Arthur. The Brit felt his stomach do a backflip as Francis looked over at him with a smirk, starting toward him. Feliciano gave him a thumbs up, then started to walk upstairs.

The Frenchman sauntered over to Arthur with a chesire grin. "So I hear that you have a little crush on me... is this true, mon cher?"

"Mmm...maybe..." Arthur muttered, "...A little more than a _little_ crush..."

"Hm..." Francis leaned in to rasp his tongue over the shell of Arthur's ear, "Then tell me, exactly how much _do_ you want me?"

Arthur closed his eyes, a shaky sigh escaping his lips. "A lot..."

"Meet me upstairs in a few minutes." He purred seductively, nibbling Arthur's ear a bit before turning and walking away.

The Brit took a deep breath, "Whew... Dear lord, what have I gotten myself into?"

_xXx_

Elizaveta rolled her eyes as Gilbert stumbled around the upstairs living room. He was so drunk... Then she glanced over at Ludwig, who was looking underneath the couch cushions.

"You really think a chest could be under the cushions, Ludwig?"

He looked up at her, somewhat embarassed. It was as if he'd just realized how, well, dumb his search was. "Well... no... but maybe there are hints as to its location hidden around as well..."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh Luddy, you're so funny..."

The German sighed, "Ja... so why are you here, anyway?"

Elizaveta's smile faded. "Oh. Well, my family is poor, like Feliciano's. We needed the money, so when I was invited here I figured, 'why not?'. I mean, what have I got to lose, right?" Her smile returned somewhat, an expression that showed her hope for a better future. Ludwig couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Perhaps she needed the money more than he and Gilbert did. "Still... I'm kind of confused as to why I was invited. Do you even know whose mansion this is?" She asked.

Ludwig shrugged, "No idea. I'm a little suspicious too, but mein bruder was coming, and I didn't want to let him come by himself."

"Oh... you mean Gilbert over there?" Elizaveta sighed, gesturing toward the albino, who was snickering to himself as he drank and searched underneath and behind the furniture.

"Ja. I know he's a bit annoying, but he's still mein bruder. Besides, it would be nice to have the money."

Elizaveta nodded, "But still... I mean, the envelope didn't even have a name on it, or anything. It must be someone who knows all of us, but I still can't help but wonder why."

Whatever reply Ludwig was about to give was cut off by a sudden scream coming from the third floor bedrooms. The two looked at each other, wide-eyed for a moment, then hurried for the stairs.


	14. Red Eyed Monster

**_Wednesday_ Story:** Red Eyed Monster

**Brought to you by:** Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

**Pairing/Character:** PruIta

**A/N:** Does anyone even read these anymore?

I feel like we all put so much work into this, and no one gives a shit. Oh, and this was inspired by a tumblr post. XD **A_U_**

* * *

In a small cottage, lived a man and his two sons. The father was named Adelwulf, and the two sons were named Ludwig and Gilbert. Adelwulf and Ludwig were normal looking. Light skinned, blue-eyed, blonde haired. Human looking.

Gilbert was not. He was the oldest child, and loved his little brother more than anything. He was always smiling and laughing and and making jokes. His little brother was shy, and serious. The only thing they shared was a last name.

Gilbert was born with red eyes and snowy white hair. He was labeled a monster from birth. Had it not been for his mother stopping it, he would've died a long time ago. Now, everyone avoided him. Except Ludwig. If something went missing, it was Gilbert's fault. If an animal was killed, he did it. The days got worse as he grew older.

He was banned from going to the church and was labeled a demon. Then, one day, it happened. Some boys burned off most of his hair. The girls ran away when he tried to talk with them. Mothers moved their children away from him when he walked through the streets.

Gilbert was 12 at this time, and he was walking through the market one day, when he was grabbed. "Gilbert Belischmidt, you are accused of witchcraft and devil worshipping. Your punishment is to be sunk in the river." The voice of the pastor said, loudly.

His eyes widened, "N-No! No! Vati! Help me!" He called out in plea, reaching out towards his father as he was led away. "Please!" He cried out. He wanted to cry, but, something stopped him.

No. He was stronger than that. He jerked away, trying to run. He was grabbed and drug back. Arms tied with heavy chains, he closed his eyes as he was marched to his death. Even without the chains, he…he couldn't swim.

He had never learned. He was dead. He watched his little brother sadly as he was led to the edge of the bridge. "We will finally rid the town of this demon. This red eyed monster!" The preacher yelled. "May God show your soul no mercy." He said, pushing him over the side. The splash was loud and he struggled, trying to reach the surface. It wasn't long before he passed out.

When he came too, he was on something fluffy and warm, he opened his eyes, blinking up at the person above him. It was a…girl? No…it was a boy in a dress, "W-Where am I?" He coughed.

"Ve~! You're awake! We pulled you out of the river, well, big brother Toni did~! Why were you in there with chains on you?" The boy asked, smiling.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm a demon. Or at least, that's what everyone called me, back at my village. Even my father." He said frowning.

"Oh~!" The boy giggled, feeling around for something a bit and handing it to him. It was a glass of water. "Well, I'm sure you're very nice looking." He smiled, "I can't see you for myself, though." He said sadly.

Gilbert frowned, "That's unawesome." He frowned. The other, slightly younger one shook his head.

"No! It's alright. I'm used to it." He said, grinning, "I'm Feliciano." He smiled. He paused, "Ciao, big brother Toni~!" He said happily, "He's awake."

"That's good. Oh, Hola. I'm Antonio, but you can call me Toni. Do you have a name?"

"Gilbert." He said, frowning, "Or demon."

"Well, Gilbert are you hungry?" He asked.

The boy nodded, "Ja. Very."

Thus, Gilbert lived with Antoni, Feliciano, and the others in that house. He and Feliciano grew closer each day that passed. Soon, though, Gilbert decided to say goodbye and go off on his own. He was about to leave, when Feliciano sighed. They were both 17, now, and as Feliciano had grown, thankfully, he out grew the dresses. They stood there, a bit nervous. "Feli…I heve to go now."

"Can't I come with? Please, Gil?"

"Not now. I'm going to build a nice house, and get settled in, then I will come and fetch for you and we'll be together." He said, grinned, "I'll keep that awesome promise!"

"Fine, but, before you go…" He trailed off, leaning up to kiss Gilbert quickly. "I'll miss you, okay?"

"Okay."


End file.
